Original subtitles

In Toronto's war on crime,

the worst offenders are pursued by the detectives

of the specialized criminal investigation's unit.

These are their stories.

Hey, guys. It's your girl T-Frank here,

coming at you with some truth and frankfulness as usual.

Namely, have you a bigger,

more fire piece of ice in your life?

Yeah, any bigger and it would break her finger.

I have my girls with me tonight.

Heading to town!

And it is gonna be lit.

More champagne! Let's open another bottle.

Hey, driver! Oh, my God.

What is this? Can you turn it down, please?

No! What? Turn it up!

I wanna have some fun tonight before I'm tied down forever.

Cheers!

Okay, Verena. It's getting late.

Let's get you in bed. - Ow!

- What was that? - No, Ivy.

Did I hurt you?

It's alright, dear. Let's do that again.

It's nothing. I--

I... I fell.

I was trying to go upstairs

and get my needle point.

Verena,

you need to be in a bungalow

or an apartment with an elevator.

I've lived here for 40 years. I'm not about to move now.

My son promised to put in a stairlift, but...

he's been so busy.

Here we go.

I'm getting so sick of this.

When you don't answer me,

I have no idea if you're alright.

Cole.

Baby, it was my bachelorette.

I wasn't checking my phone. - Oh.

You weren't on your phone?

No, what? Turn it up!

I wanna have some fun tonight

before I'm tied down forever.

No, you've had enough fun for the night.

Now I would've thought you got it out of your system

seeing as you slept with half the men in the city.

- But why stop at half? - You're disgusting.

My mom was right.

You don't deserve a ring. You're trash.

Stop, Cole. Stop it!

Let go of me!

I'm done.

Bronson.

I said, "I'm done."

Thank you, I appreciate it.

Do you wanna talk about it at all?

Talk about what?

About this latest track you're mixing

or how the new digital stuff just can't compete

with the tactile feel of a reel-to-reel?

I'm going to Aline's.

She needs help with the baby so I'm gonna stay the night.

You'll walk the dog, right?

I would take her with me, but, you know, my sister...

Yeah, of course.

You don't have to leave tonight. It's your house, too.

Hey! Can I help you?

Bella, shh, quit it with the barking.

The death of a great artist. What a shame.

I didn't take you as a Bronson fan.

Well, his earlier stuff is fantastic

before he became a big-time producer.

Hey. What'd you get from the cameras?

Nothing, Detective Bateman. It cut out at 11:40.

Anything from neighbouring security?

Our team's already canvassed the entire street. No hits.

It's probably 'cause the killer came in

through the park. That way they only have

to deal with Bronson's camera.

Rather than one of the most surveilled streets

in the country.

First few blows would have caused this cast-off.

Then he went down here,

judging by the blood pooled around his head.

Ah, but with multiple blows like this,

you'd expect to see a lot more blood,

which means our victim was dead

before the killer stopped swinging.

When his heart stopped, so did the bleeding.

What is it?

Burns maybe.

This wasn't your average run-of-the-mill anger.

No, this was a power-assertive killer

in an uncontrollable rage. This was a red-out.

Killer saw red and...

got lost.

Whoever did this found it to be c...

Hey.

You okay, partner?

25 years.

Once in a while, a case comes along

that just gives you the chills.

Bronson, real name, Kevin Jones,

died of blunt force trauma.

The initial blow to the occipital bone

did the job, but these multiples to the parietal,

temporal, and lacrimal removed all doubt.

- How about the ears? - Cigarette burns.

Scapha, fossa and deeper, all the way down

to the tympanic membrane.

Jesus, he tortured him.

Used his ears as an ash tray.

Actually, Inspector, judging by the non-reactive

yellow discolouration around the wounds,

the burns were post-mortem.

The killer's anger didn't extinguish

after Bronson was dead.

This isn't torture.

Killer was sending a message.

Yeah, what kind of message?

Bronson's ears meant everything to him.

As important as tastebuds to a chef.

Anything else, Lucy?

Uh, traces of dog hair.

Specs of pink glitter near the neck.

And guy was a teeth grinder.

Two of his molars were cracked.

- Is that stress? - It's usually the cause.

Let's talk to the wife.

Um, I was staying at my sister's house.

She just had a baby. Eva's not latching.

Aline's going insane.

So last night, 5 P.M., you left,

you went straight to your sisters?

Yes. I was there all night.

We're having it confirmed right now by the same officers

who went through your husband's paperwork and phone.

His last text was to a lawyer. Any idea why?

Bronson has his lawyers on speed dial.

They look over all of his deals.

But this was a family lawyer.

How are you enjoying My brilliant Friend?

I'm up to three in the Neapolitan novels.

I'm not gonna spoil anything. Don't worry.

We searched your house. I saw it on the bedside table

in the guest room.

Separate bedrooms.

A two-word text to a family lawyer.

She signed.

I'm thinking that spells divorce.

Yeah, we know how it is.

You know, why settle for spousal

when you can inherit the lot?

What's that called again, Bateman?

Motive.

See, we found these in Bronson's office.

In his recycling bin

to be exact.

You know what's funny? Even when the people are lying

about something as big as this,

they can't help but recycle.

So, I'm guessing you ripped up your divorce papers today

when you went back in to pack.

Hmm?

I didn't wanna get a divorce.

I loved my husband.

But he was married to his work.

He had been for years.

So we finally decided to split amicably.

What's all this?

Uh, lyrics.

Submission letters for random people and major players

all begging Bronson to work with them to make them a star.

And that's just from last week.

He was trying to produce music, but honestly,

he spent most of his time saying no to people.

If you're asking who you should be looking into for this,

that's easy.

Everyone he's ever said no to.

I'm just thinking of all the people Bronson rejected.

There's an entire world on the outside

dreaming about getting a peek at some imaginary inner circle.

No, Bronson wanted to be a kingmaker,

but he ended up as a gatekeeper.

Two sides of the same coin.

Kingmakers bring good news to the lucky few,

plucked them from obscurity. Whereas gatekeepers--

Yeah, they spend their days saying no to the masses.

Hmm. Whover killed Bronson really had something to say.

That... power-aggressive move, the burns in the ears,

the defilement of the body after death.

What?

What are you thinking?

That influencer who was strangled in her loft last week,

Tara Franklin. - Yeah.

Her ring finger was cut off with scissors.

- Hmm. - Now, maybe body defilement

is going around, but...

It's interesting.

Same rage, same power assertion,

same... red-out.

Okay, but totally different victim profiles.

Different causes of death, different MOs.

As far as we know, Tara wasn't saying no to anyone.

Beautiful women like Tara

say no to somebody every day of the week.

They're gatekeepers just by being young,

desired, and alive.

"Before being able to enter a strange land,

a hero is likely to encounter an opponent

in the form of a Threshold Guardian..."

Wow. Archetypes?

You're basing your theories on The Hero's Journey now.

Well, Classics 301. Thank you very much.

And far better theories have come from worse places.

Hmm.

We're closed.

What is wrong with people?

Did you lock up early or something?

No, maybe 30 seconds.

Hey, coming for drinks?

We're just going around the corner.

This is all the evidence in the Tara Franklin case.

So you guys seriously think

this is connected to the Bronson case?

I'm not sure, but it's possible.

Both bodies were defiled in a similar manner.

Both victims were killed in an absolute fury.

Both were well known, and they were gatekeepers.

What's that even mean?

It's a theory based on an archetype.

A riddle wrapped in an enigma.

Okay, well, look,

I'm happy to hand this off to you.

I was liking the fianc� for it,

but it turns out he's got a solid alibi.

And whoever did do it was nice enough to leave no trace,

no evidence whatsoever, so...

Well, let me guess.

The security cameras were disabled?

Yeah.

And this is everything from the night?

Yeah, tagged from top to bottom.

Except for the engagement ring, which went missing.

Put out a search, but still no hits.

We think that maybe the killer kept it

or sold it under the table for cash.

Wait.

Glitter.

Yeah, that makes sense.

She was at her bachelorette party the night she was killed.

I don't know. Our victim, Bronson,

he was found with purple glitter on his neck.

One point is just a dot.

But two points is a line.

Will, who's the last person to see Tara before she got home?

I was hired for the night.

Ms. Franklin had a very packed itinerary.

I took them to three different clubs.

And I waited outside of my limo

until they were ready to move on.

Did the women have any decorations with them?

Streamers, tiaras, glitter?

Oh, yeah. For sure.

No, they had it... they had it all.

That night, did you hear mention of a guy named Bronson?

- Is that her fianc�? - No, different guy.

Hmm. No. Sorry.

But I couldn't hear them very well. The music was loud.

You dropped her off at, um,

2 A.M.?

Yeah, she was my last stop.

And when we pulled up to her place, she, um...

She froze.

She wouldn't get out of the car. - Why is that?

She saw her fianc� in the window.

And he was awake inside. The blinds were open,

and she told me to keep driving.

Where did you go?

Nowhere. We drove around the block a few times.

I offered to drive her to one of her friend's place,

but...

I don't know, maybe I should have done something more,

but I was just so tired, I wanted to get home.

I did wait until she got inside to make sure she was okay,

but the second she stepped into her apartment,

her fianc� closed the blinds.

What a mess.

They finally let me back in,

this is how they leave the place.

It's disgusting. My fianc� gets killed,

and I've got to clean it up.

There are services you can hire to help with this.

Here. Give these guys a call.

They're excellent. - Thank you.

You shove that card up your ass.

You guys are all morons. Every single one of you.

Cole, we just came here to talk, alright?

We have a few more questions.

I already told the other guy everything.

Over and over. Your questions,

they make me wanna rip my ears off.

Well, these are new questions.

You ever hiked in the bridal path?

No, I don't hike.

- You smoke? - Uh, sometimes socially, why?

Tell me where you were two nights ago.

Uh... I, uh,

they let me back in here.

I was here, I was grieving.

Grieving by way of pizza and cocaine?

You wanna tell me how to grieve now?

Okay, I'll tell you what.

I'll kill your goddam fianc�,

let's see how you spend the night.

You a fan of Bronson at all?

You interested in hip-hop?

My fianc� gets murdered, you wanna talk about music.

Sure, let's debate who the GOAT is. Biggie or Tupac?!

Okay, listen, Cole,

I think it's time we call somebody, okay?

Somebody to come be with you. - Go to hell!

Well, that's assaulting an officer,

so you're gonna be coming with us.

- You okay? - Yeah, I'm okay.

But I don't think this guy is.

- I'm sorry about your shoulder. - Don't mention it.

You were quite in the state today.

Assaulting my partner,

threatening to kill her imaginary fianc�,

rip off your own ears.

Seems like you might have been in the same state

the night that Tara was murdered.

See, we have a witness who saw

you two fighting that night.

She hadn't checked in for six hours.

I had no idea where she was or if she was okay.

Yeah, we argued.

But then after 20 minutes, I left.

You went to stay with your parents, yeah?

Because parents never lie for their children.

So putting last week's stellar alibi

to the side for a moment,

where were you at the time of Bronson's murder?

Tuesday night. - I already told you.

I was home.

I don't know this guy. We've never met.

What about Tara? She know him?

No.

I don't even think she ever listened to his music.

Cole, how did you meet Tara?

At a mixer with influencers.

I run a real estate brokerage.

- You work for your dad. - With.

Not for.

Must have been hard climbing that gilded corporate ladder.

What do you want from me?

Actually, nothing.

We're done here.

So let me get this straight,

you don't believe that Cole Miller

murdered either Bronson or Tara?

Oh, more a fact than a belief.

Right, and you're basing this on some vibe

you got from the suspect?

Not so much the vibe,

but Mr. Miller's psychological profile.

Look, Cole is the most entitled person I've ever met.

Beyond privileged. - How does this stop him

from being our killer?

Well, he can't resent gatekeepers,

because every door has been opened for him

with kid's gloves. - So we're just gonna disregard

the mountain of witnesses

who say Cole Miller has anger issues?

Well, his temper is real.

It's just based on the most

pathetically low self-esteem you can imagine.

He knows he is who he is

because everything's been handed to him

on a silver platter.

He's not the type of guy who's gonna cut somebody's

fingers off with a pair of scissors

or bludgeon a producer over a rejection letter.

His psychology does not match our killer.

Our killer defiles his victims

in order to assert power over them.

Why storm the castle

when you're sitting on the throne?

That's one hell of a fancy argument.

But until you can confirm his alibi

or find concrete evidence

that there is no way Cole Miller

could have murdered Tara Franklin,

I suggest that you take another run at him.

Boss, I promise you, our killer's still out there.

And the longer we spent on Cole,

the more time our killer has to stalk his next victim.

Yeah, we might already be too late.

I just got off the phone with 38th division,

they found another body.

Victim also showed signs of post-mortem defiling.

Alishia Marriot, 34 years old. Teller at First Canada Bank.

Her landlord found her here two hours ago.

The killer lodged a crumpled 20 dollar bill in her mouth.

Multiple stab wounds

to the chest and stomach. Horrible way to die.

Killer wanted her to suffer.

It reflects better with the light.

It's purple glitter.

Two points make a line...

And three points make a trend.

Bateman, we have an active killer.

Any update on the glitter found on Alisha?

Yeah, forensics just confirmed

that there was a match for the other two victims.

But how does Alisha Mariott, a working-class bank teller,

fit into your theory

of all three victims being gatekeepers?

So last night, Alisha gave a statement to two officers

regarding an incident that took place at her work.

First Canada Bank.

They just sent over the tape.

This is from 5:01 P.M.

Any angles of our assailant?

Nope. But this is from two minutes prior.

That's Alisha walking up.

Alisha was literally a sentinel at that bank.

When she locked the doors on our guy one minute early,

he found himself in the position he hated most,

on the outside looking in.

Okay, I'm in.

Yeah, it holds water.

Uh, gatekeepers, glitter,

psychopath, and a frenzy phase.

But now here comes the hard part.

What's that?

Finding out how each of our random victims

connect to our killer.

Oh, that's alright. I never use my desk anyway.

Sorry, I started over there, and I just expanded.

Expanded what exactly?

Connections.

The game. I've played every morning.

You've never heard of it? - Uh, no, because I have a kid.

It's an association game.

You take seemingly disparate words and thoughts

and try to make a connection.

I do it when I hit a dead-end. No wrong answers.

Okay, so, "Ronces Valles," "Bridle Path," "Queen West."

The neighbourhoods where our victims lived?

Exactly.

Okay, so, "Fettuccini,"

"Microwave dinner,"

"Porterhouse"? - The victims' last meals.

What? I said no bad ideas. What have you got?

I've been going over the entire Cole Miller file.

Despite being terrible, abusive, and entitled,

he can't be our killer. Not if these cases

are indeed connected. - They are.

Okay, but we know he didn't kill Bronson,

he didn't kill Alisha, and yet, he's still

the most obvious suspect in Tara's death.

How? - You saying somebody's lying?

Well, they got to be.

Who?

Why do you have two cards for hip-hop?

Shouldn't there just be one for Bronson?

The second is for Tara's bachelorette.

Here.

Look, this is a post she put up at that night.

Hey, driver! What is this?

Can you turn it down, please?

No! What? Turn it up!

No, please don't.

You hear that?

Okay.

So...

"Glitter," "Ring,"

"Limo, "Hip-hop."

The night of her bachelorette,

Tara set off a glitter cannon inside a limo

blaring hip-hop.

I see only one connection between those four cards

and our case against Cole.

Calvin Follows. The limo driver.

They key witness who incriminated Cole.

He was lying to us and we missed it.

Told everyone the boogeyman was hiding in the closet.

No one looked under the bed.

I'm sorry I was late.

Oh, Calvin. It was nothing.

I love old movies.

Can I talk to you for a moment?

Mm-hmm.

Verena, I'll see you tomorrow.

I noticed a few new bruises on your mother lately.

I keep telling her to wait for me to walk up the stairs.

I know, but until the chairlift comes,

keep an eye out.

Of course. Yeah, no, thank you

for letting me know.

Why did you tell Ivy about the bruises?

I-I didn't tell her. I promise.

She found them.

You know, it's funny,

I look after you,

or I pay Ivy to look after you while I'm working.

Working to earn money

to pay Ivy to look after you.

C-Calvin, listen to me.

I made a mistake. I'm sorry. I tried-- Ahh!

Dad is gone, alright?!

I'm all you have left.

If I'm gone, there's no one.

Look at me. Look at me.

What? You think Ivy's gonna come here and look after you

out of what? The goodness of her heart?

I made a mistake! I'm sorry!

You wanna see what life is like without me?

You're gonna sit here.

Ahh!

...and enjoy.

So here it is. Limo driver, Calvin Follows

matches the psychopathological profile of our killer to a T.

He's a loner, he's got no friends,

no links to any community.

He worked for his father, but when his dad died,

he was unable to hold down a job for more than two months.

We spoke to his former employers, his teachers

and, according to them, he's exhibited anti-social

behaviour his entire life.

Just because someone's quirky, doesn't make them a killer.

Jesus.

What are the facts?

Any connecting DNA found on the bodies?

- No. - No prints found on the money

found in Alisha's mouth.

And no prints found at her work.

No cigarette butts near Bronson's body.

- Nothing. - None of the victims

knew each other, resembled each other,

or were killed in the same way.

We don't even know that these murders are connected.

You want a search warrant,

give me something that I can use.

Here. Purple violet.

Ultra fine. Hexagon, laser-cut, point 008.

Microplastic,

it's almost impossible to get rid of.

Now he's been accidentally

leaving that at every crime scene.

Now, Theo, if you can get me that search warrant

for his house and limo, I'll guarantee

that I'll find traces of that exact glitter

that was found on Bronson, Tara, and Alisha's bodies.

I respect your instinct.

But I cannot jeopardize this whole investigation

with a warrant that will not hold up in court.

What about their lives?

Does that not mean anything to you?

Henry,

I will talk to Inspector Holness.

Suggest she put a SPIN team on Follows.

Make sure he's not a threat to the public.

Give you a bit more time to find that glitter.

And when you get that evidence,

I'll be ready.

The driver seemed fine.

A little off, maybe.

"Off" how?

I-I don't know. He was...

intense but trying really hard to be chill.

Tara obviously didn't think so.

She was flirting with him the entire night.

She set off this bright purple glitter cannon in his limo.

He pretended to get mad at her, it was like a whole thing.

Any chance they went home together?

Zero. No. She was just messing with him.

This guy was a loser.

Like, he was bragging about the celebrities he drove,

and...

He wouldn't even play real music for us.

What do you mean "real music"?

He was a wannabe rapper.

He kept playing his stupid music the whole night.

I tried to get him to change it,

Tara kept joking about how good it was.

Singing the hooks.

I don't even think he realized she was making fun of him.

I think maybe he did.

Mom, I'm busy. Where is Ivy?

What do you mean she just left you?

Hey. Would you consider selling it?

No, it's a piece of junk.

Mom, I got to go.

It's a pretty nice piece of junk.

Heck, even if you strung it for parts.

I said it's a piece of junk.

Crush it.

Ivy, did Calvin ever threaten you at all?

No. Never.

Calvin hired me two years ago.

Right after Verena's husband passed away.

Calvin was not able to take care of his mother on his own.

I'm sorry, this was a mistake.

- Please. - Ivy, wait. Ivy...

If Calvin is who we think he is, you could be in real danger.

Everything's fine.

I'm sorry, I have to go now. - No, please, just one question.

These dates and these times,

was Calvin ever home during those intervals?

Are you sure?

I only work when he's not at home.

I work all three of those nights.

Bateman already showed Bronson's widow

a photo of Calvin. She didn't recognize him.

I mean, sure it's possible he reached out to Bronson,

but it's highly unlikely. - No, it's certain.

Right, I went through every letter in Bronson's recycling.

"Hey, Bronson, check out my beats." Et cetera, et cetera.

There are hundreds of these letters.

This one,

this one is signed with a pseudonym,

yet the handwriting is an exact match

as Calvin's witness statement on Tara's murder.

He's even...

written his phone number at the bottom of the letter.

I checked it, it's him.

Bronson rejected Calvin's music. We have it in writing.

Interesting, but circumstantial.

Okay, but we also have a record that Calvin Follows

has an account at First Canada Bank.

The same bank that Alisha worked at.

Along with one out of every six Canadians.

Alright, what about Ivy's statement

that Calvin was never home during each of the murders?

Trust me. I wouldn't have come down here if it wasn't for her.

Her statement is holding your case together by a thread.

But... - Yeah, Calvin not being home

doesn't place him at any of the crime scenes.

Did my job for me.

However, I understand the imminent danger

Calvin Follows presents to the community.

And that the best time to catch an active killer

is in a frenzy stage.

Preferably before they kill again.

So?

I'm gonna go out on a limb.

So, I'll call Judge Romanek now.

I'll get you a warrant.

Good man.

Let's hope you find the same glitter from all three victims

in Calvin's limo or his house.

Looks official. Here. Sorry, her soup's getting cold.

I'm spread a bit thin today.

My mom's PSW called in sick.

It's strange. She seemed fine yesterday.

Something must be going around.

Start upstairs.

Copy that.

My room's the third door on the left.

Detectives.

I don't know what to tell you.

Matching the glitter will take years.

Even if we find a match,

Calvin can say he purchased it after the murders.

Which would be impossible to disprove.

You wanna hide the needle,

bring in a haystack.

Calvin.

I-I can do that for myself.

I know, Mom, but why would you need to

when I'm here?

Are you done? - No, we're not done.

Okay, well, I'm starting to feel a little...

What's the word? Harassed.

Well, the warrant's still good.

Yeah, for another six minutes.

Unless I read it wrong.

Calvin, what can you tell us about the glitter in your room?

- What about it? - Why is it there?

Well, I'm a limo driver.

As you know. Lots of parties, celebrations.

I like to keep a few plastic glasses, streamers,

party hats, glitter cannons in the trunk.

Just in case.

Still doesn't explain

why there's a mountain of glitter in your room.

Oh, I try them out sometimes. See which ones work best.

The best preparation for tomorrow is...

doing your best today.

Yeah, well, speaking of your limo,

we just found out you had it destroyed.

And already put through the compacter.

Oh, yeah. It broke down.

Again.

So I decided to stop throwing good money after bad.

And I'm looking into getting a new one.

Prepare the umbrella before it rains.

Well...

it's been real.

My mother and I have some things to attend to.

So unless there's anything else...

Mother.

We still have five minutes.

Mom, don't worry.

Cheer up.

It's all gonna be great.

Alright, come on, think, think, think, think.

Type-O electrical adapter.

Exclusive to Thailand.

He's fleeing town.

With his mother.

He's fleeing the country.

So you're going to Thailand.

Yes. We are.

Mom's very excited about it.

Aren't you, Mom?

Go on. Why don't you tell them why?

My husband and I wanted to go to Thailand

for our 40th anniversary.

Planned it for years.

He died two years ago.

And Calvin is taking me now.

- Now as in-- - As in tonight.

It does seem a little quick.

Well, why wait?

Mom's not getting any younger.

Just because Dad's not around anymore to take her,

doesn't mean she should suffer.

- When are you coming back? - Three weeks.

It's enough time to lie on the beach, see the sights.

Mom's always wanted to swim in Maya Bay.

I really want to make that happen for her.

Quite the extravagant trip.

Yeah, well, what's it all for if not to enjoy ourselves?

Hmm? Work hard, play hard.

I work very hard.

Verena, can we have a private word, please?

- Uh... - Looks like your time is up.

I think we're done here.

Calvin.

Don't do this.

Do what?

He knew.

He knew we were coming for him.

Glitter all over his room,

the limo crushed to oblivion.

So we got nothing from this warrant?

Yeah, we learned he's flying his mother

first-class to Bangkok.

Just got off the phone with Pearson,

they leave at 6:25 tonight.

- Are you serious? - He's allowed to leave.

We got nothing real on that psycho.

Right now, he can do whatever he wants.

If we don't get him today,

we'll get him when he comes back.

He's not coming back.

He's moving to a new hunting ground.

He's gonna wheel his own mother off that plane

and toss her body into a dumpster at the airport.

And then he's moving on.

Calvin Follows is gonna keep killing over and over again.

Any girl that turns him down,

any cab driver that rips him off,

any person who gets up in his face.

We can alert the Thai police. Give them a heads up.

Oh, come on, Theo.

He gets on that plane, and he's gone.

Henry,

are you sure it's him?

I am.

Frankie?

100 percent.

Then we have four hours to figure this out.

Comb through his online shopping history.

Calvin bought a camera jammer last month.

- Good, helpful, not enough. - Verena's social media.

She hasn't posted in years. Not much there, but okay,

take a look at this picture of Calvin and his dad.

I mean, what happened to this happy kid?

Hmm. Father never made it to his 40th anniversary.

You got Calvin's employment history there.

He bounced around job to job, no real direction.

Yeah, bounced around after his father died.

After his father died,

now why wouldn't he just stay working at the garage?

Follows and Sons, you'd think he would've inherited the place.

Have we searched the title for his father's business?

I got it here. Father sold it to a Norman Wong

in August 22nd, 2021.

Was that before or after his father died?

It was before.

Weeks before.

How did the dad die?

Got his death certificate here.

Apparently, he fell down the stairs at his garage.

He broke his neck.

It's nice to be driven for a change.

I bet it is.

This is very exciting.

Calvin,

how did you manage to get everything into one bag?

Mom.

Please, stop worrying so much.

We're starting fresh.

I'm gonna buy you everything new once we get there.

Oh.

- Tickets? - We're not going anywhere.

I'm sorry, sir, you need to present your tickets.

Up to the lounge.

Why did that bring me so much pleasure?

Because Calvin wasn't wrong, gatekeepers are the worst.

Mr. Follows.

Verena.

I guess they let anyone in here now.

Funny, first time in a club,

and you're already shutting the door behind ya.

- I worked hard to be here. - Sure you did.

We just need to tick a few boxes before you leave.

Well, no warrant, no conversation.

No, it's fine, we're not here to talk to you.

Would you be okay if we asked you a few questions?

Feel free to speak, Verena.

Unless your son is so controlling

that he forbids you to talk.

Verena,

your husband, Paul,

he died two years ago?

Fell down the stairs at his garage.

- Yeah. - Just after he told your son

that he'd sold the business.

Uh...

Paul always took those stairs too fast.

Calvin was gonna put in a railing.

He wanted his father to be safe.

But your husband wasn't safe.

He fell.

He broke his neck.

We just learned of this today. - Are we done here?

I'm about to take my mother on a trip of a lifetime,

I won't endure any more of this harassment.

Follows and Sons, now that's a nice, solid name.

It has a ring to it.

Also carries the inherent promise of a succession plan.

When Follows is gone, the son will take over.

Yeah, your father, he gave you his name

and he was gonna give you his business.

Except, for some reason,

he didn't.

So Dad decides to sell the business

with your name on it

to a Mr. Norman Wong

who vows to continue your father's legacy,

that is up until two months ago,

when he levels the garage to make way for a parking lot.

Your birthright is literally demolished.

My father wasn't right in the head.

He wasn't thinking straight. Right, Mom?

You know what, Mom? Let's go.

Well, right in the head or not,

it was what your father wanted.

It wasn't Norman's fault.

Norman didn't force your father

to sell him the garage out from under you.

No, that was all your father's doing.

Because he was the ultimate gatekeeper

of the family business.

And he locked you out of it.

Now a rejection like that isn't just a "no."

It's an implicit judgment that you are not worthy,

not smart enough, not kind enough.

Not attractive enough.

Is that what Tara said?

When she rejected your advances?

That must have hurt.

Almost as much as when Bronson told you

you're not talented enough.

Or the bank teller when she had a message for you.

You weren't even worth her time.

At least those were all strangers.

Because with strangers, it's easier to convince yourself

that they don't know you.

Who are they to judge you?

But your own father,

the man who made you, who raised you,

who knew down to your very core.

And he tells you that you're not worthy?

That you're not good enough to use the family name.

What did he tell you at the top of the stairs, Calvin?

When he was so flushed with shame.

Did he tell you...

that he wished you'd never been born?

Maybe he was right. He knew best after all.

Graff!

My father didn't know anything.

- I hope you told him that. - I did.

And I hope you made it so he never said that again.

I did.

Screw him. I hope you broke his neck.

I did.

I snapped it like a twig.

Yeah.

Get him out of here.

Where are you taking him?

You alright?

Oh, my God.

Verena,

my associate here is gonna check you out.

Make sure you're okay.

We've already called Ivy, she's coming to pick you up.

Thank you, thank you.

You okay?

I don't know what's wrong with me,

I almost feel bad for the guy.

Why do you feel bad?

He hasn't thought it all the way through.

Where he's going,

there's only gatekeepers.

difuze

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